


Starstruck

by crescendohh



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Bisexual Bucky Barnes, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Captain America: The First Avenger, Clothed Sex, Identity Porn, M/M, Pining, Sexual Fantasy, Top Steve Rogers, Uniform Kink, the shield...does things for bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 05:46:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28505433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crescendohh/pseuds/crescendohh
Summary: Crazy as it was, a little something about Captain America reminded him of Steve. Something about his scowl, the righteous tone of his voice. Maybe that was the real root cause of all this. His Steve might not have all that muscle, but picturing him in those tights, staring down at Bucky with his hands on hips, that did it for him.Out on the warfront, Bucky develops a Captain America obsession.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 17
Kudos: 227
Collections: Star Spangled Secret Santa 2020





	Starstruck

**Author's Note:**

  * For [emptydistractions](https://archiveofourown.org/users/emptydistractions/gifts).



> written as a gift for emptydistractions for the star spangled secret santa! happy holidays and i hope you like it :)
> 
> also, apologies for any historical inaccuracies.

Bucky all but fell onto his bunk, so exhausted and so grateful to be back at camp.

If he was lucky, he’d get a few days of half-decent rest on a half-broken cot in a tent with a half-dozen other men. Maybe they’d get orders to pack up, move out to another location. That’d give him another week or so.

It was Tuesday. That’s what the nurse who’d cleaned and dressed the deep gash on his thigh had told him. Bucky rolled over onto his back, threw his arm over his eyes, and smiled up at the canvas ceiling. Tuesdays were good days. It was when a lot of the mail came in, when they got the newsreels and literature.

Bucky sat up, cracked his neck, and hobbled out of the tent. Didn’t wanna risk missing out.

***

He’d gotten a couple letters while he’d been away from his parents and his sisters. They gave him updates on their lives, the neighborhood gossip, little mundanities that Bucky now found hard to remember being part of his life. 

Nothing from Steve. He’d only gotten a handful of letters in total from Steve, which didn’t necessarily mean anything — Steve only wrote when he had something to say. And that’s what concerned Bucky. Because the letters he had received from Steve didn’t say much of consequence. It just wasn’t like him. What was Steve not saying? What was he too stubborn to admit to in his letters? If Bucky was back home, he wouldn’t let Steve get away with carrying everything on his own, but here, so far away from Brooklyn, all he could do was bite his lip and write back saying not to do anything stupid. Not without Bucky there to back him up. 

It was easier for Bucky to focus his anxiety and worry on Steve than on his own situation. He was in a war. His life could be over at any moment, but he couldn’t think about that. So he thought about Steve.

He walked through the mud to the tent where they put on the news reels, head down, the thin airmail paper of the letter from his parents open in his hands, but his mind wasn’t focused on it. He didn’t even notice when Dum Dum Dugan fell into step beside him. Not until he opened his mouth.

“Ready to see your fella today?” Dum Dum asked, his bushy mustache twitching with the teasing smile he was trying to keep off his face.

A blush rose high on Bucky’s cheeks. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure. It’s just that I heard from the boys that we’re in for a real treat. A new film’s just come out. Know you liked the last one.” Dum Dum winked.

He was just ribbing him, Bucky knew. Bucky wasn’t stupid. There’s no way anyone could actually know.

When they reached the tent, Dum Dum held the flap open for him and they ducked in, joining the other couple dozen men who’d already arrived and sitting down on one of the benches near the back.

The lamps extinguished, a hush went through the room, and the projector clicked on. 

_CAPTAIN AMERICA GOES TO WAR_

***

It was completely ridiculous. It should have been insulting, showing a propaganda movie like that to the soldiers out here in the muck, living it, when this guy was safe at home under the Hollywood lights.

And yet.

For the other guys, it was exactly for the ridiculousness of it that they watched the movies and read the comics. It was something to laugh about when they didn’t have a whole lot else. For Bucky, well, it started as that. They’d been getting the comic strips for a while now, occasionally those propaganda posters with Captain America’s gloved hand pointing at you no matter where you were in the room. But it wasn’t till a few weeks ago that they got the first movie reel. 

Folks back home had been getting them for a while now. Apparently, Cap was a big hit, even going on a city-to-city stage tour with a bunch of show girls. Bucky’s sisters had mentioned him a couple times. They hadn’t been able to go to the show in New York. Bucky didn’t get the fascination. Some big guy in a cowl and tights stage-punching fake Nazis. He didn’t see what the fuss was about.

Then he saw Cap’s thighs nearly busting the seams of his tights, the muscles of his back and shoulders moving underneath his stupid, star-spangled costume. Bucky hung back in the tent and watched the movie two more times, bought all the comics that had been shipped overseas so far, and then went back to see the movie again the next day.

It was embarrassing. That first night, he was in his bunk, curled under his scratchy army-issued blanket with a hand down his pants and one of the comics open on the sheet in front of him. He couldn’t get it out of his head. He pictured blue eyes, a strong jawline, power in every movement. God help him, even the cheesy cowl with the little wings did it for him. 

He’d noticed guys before, sure. He hadn’t ever done anything about it, but he was alright with admitting it to himself. Some of the fellas back in the Brooklyn dance halls were pretty swell dancers, and Bucky had a thought once or twice what it’d be like to be in the place of one of the girls swinging in their arms. A couple of the men he worked with in his dad’s office were sharp-looking as well. He thought he’d even caught one of them looking back. And then there was Steve, of course. 

Crazy as it was, a little something about Captain America reminded him of Steve. Something about his scowl, the righteous tone of his voice. Maybe that was the real root cause of all this. His Steve might not have all that muscle, but picturing him in those tights, staring down at Bucky with his hands on hips, sent Bucky right over the edge.

He wiped his come discreetly on an old shirt. Laundry would be washed day after next anyway. Once he’d hidden his comic collection under the mattress, he stared up at the canvas ceiling and swore to himself this was a one time deal. No more. He wasn’t gonna make a habit of jerking it to a damn propaganda character.

Definitely not.

***

Bucky stepped out of the news tent red in the face. 

Cap got a few more close ups in this one than the last few movies Bucky’d caught. Those little shorts he wore had to be illegal. He’d got himself a shield, too. Which was completely silly and impractical and it wouldn’t last a minute against a bullet, no matter how pretty they painted it. Not to mention those other weapons there’d been rumors of. Vaporizers. Magic cannons that could turn a man to dust on the spot. All of it coming from some Nazi cult. Hydra. Bucky had heard the name whispered among the officers, so some of it was probably true.

Dum Dum clapped him on the shoulder. He had a couple of rolled up comics in his fist. The new Captain America issues that had come out while they’d been away from camp. 

“Appreciate it, pal,” Bucky said, taking the comics and tucking them in his pocket. “Saved me from having to trade a couple of my cigarettes.”

“Didn’t know you smoked,” Dum Dum replied, falling into step beside Bucky.

“I don’t.” Bucky shrugged. “My best friend from back home — the smoke, it irritates him. Can make it real hard for him to breathe sometimes. So I never picked it up. Works out for me here well enough. I’m never looking for another fix and I can save ‘em up and trade for something good. I got some chocolate last time. A sweet tooth like mine is hard to satisfy around here.”

Dum Dum nodded his head over his left shoulder. “Guess today’s your lucky times two then, Barnes.”

Bucky furrowed his brow and his eyes followed the direction Dum Dum had indicated. 

And then he blinked and looked again.

“Saw it on our way in, but thought I’d wait to point it out as a surprise,” Dum Dum said, shit-eating grin and all. “I’ll go see the show with you, but you gotta promise not to get all starstruck.”

Bucky’s brain was buzzing. Captain America stage tour was coming to the Western Front. And specifically, here. Captain America was coming to this camp to do his little song and dance in just a few weeks.

Dum Dum dug his elbow in Bucky’s side. “Yeah, go on and get it all out of your system now.”

“Shut up, Dugan,” Bucky said. But he was smiling. 

That smile lasted him all the way back to his bunk. He stretched out and smiled to himself, one hand pillowed behind his head and the other messing with the wound dressing on his thigh just like the nurse told him not to.

He didn’t know what he was so happy about. What would seeing Cap in person do that the comics and movies couldn’t aside from making this crush real? What would Bucky even say to him if given the opportunity? _Hey, Cap, any chance you’d like to bend me over the nearest desk?_ Yeah, like that’d go over well. The guy probably wasn’t even queer and he probably wouldn’t have any interest in a sad-eyed, homesick soldier if he was. The best Bucky could hope for was a hand shake, maybe he could give Cap’s bicep a quick little squeeze. Accidentally brush his fingers across his star-spangled chest. That wouldn’t be too overt. It’s what anyone would do when confronted with all of those bulging muscles and massive pecs. No way Cap would interpret that as _I’ve been masturbating to drawings of you_. Right? Bucky could keep his cool.

And why was Bucky even entertaining the thought of approaching Captain America? He’d do best to stay as far away as possible. Stand in the back of the crowd and try to act like he’s more interested in the girls than the grown man in tights.

Those tights, though.

Bucky groaned and ran his hands down his face. It was gonna be a long few weeks.

***

The 107th got the order to pack up and head out to the front lines less than a week later.

Bucky spent the march thinking about Cap and the show and the little strand of light-colored hair that was peeking out of his cowl in the last movie and how, if he had any luck at all, Bucky would make it back to camp just in time for the USO to roll into town.

In the trenches, he thought about his family. His da and his ma. Each of his sisters. He pictured their faces in his mind, catalogued their smiles and their dimples. He held onto them tight. As the Hydra operatives approached, their weapons no longer just rumors, he thought of Steve. Steve, alone in their shoebox apartment, with pencil smudges on his hands and no one to remind him to put on an extra pair of socks. No one to keep him out of trouble. He’d probably got his nose broken again. Bucky made his folks promise to save up all his pay and give it to Steve, and he was glad for it now. Steve could stay in the apartment for a while before he’d need to look for another roommate. And Bucky’s family would look out for him. Steve would have to accept it. It was Bucky’s last wish. It was coming up on the end of the line for him, but Steve could keep going. He had to.

Strapped to a table and tortured, his mind took him away, somewhere in the twilight between awake and sleep. Steve and Cap got all mixed together. Steve’s righteous words coming out of Captain America’s strong-jawed mouth. Steve’s deep blue eyes shining through the dark, his blond hair poking out from under the cowl. If only Bucky could reach out and touch him. Make it real. He could feel Steve’s big hand on his shoulder. Steve always did have big hands. Big hands and a big nose. Those stayed the same. 

Steve’s face was covered in dirt and ash. His eyes darted back and forth, all over Bucky and the room. His arm scooped up behind Bucky’s back and lifted him off the table. Now this would make a good propaganda film. Captain America waded through enemy territory to rescue the troops. Steve walked into hell to save Bucky.

It occurred to Bucky at some point, maybe when Steve was pulling him through the hall or when he jumped through fire, that this wasn’t a fantasy of his dying mind. Steve dressed like a rugged Captain America wasn’t so far off from his daydreams previous to his capture, but he didn’t think he could make up a man ripping his face off like that if he tried. 

The realization that _Steve_ was Captain America struck him about three miles out from the ruined Hydra base. Maybe that should have been his immediate conclusion, but it wasn’t and it hit him like a rock to the head and his legs gave out. He would have dropped straight to the ground if Steve hadn’t caught him under the arms. Because of course, he did.

“Buck?” Steve’s voice was tentative, gentle. Not a tone Bucky was used to hearing from him. “Do you need to rest? We can’t stop now. We’re not far enough away. I can carry you?”

Because of course, he could.

Bucky waved him off and pushed out of his arms. The last thing Bucky needed was to be riding in Captain America’s — _Steve’s_ — arms or on his back. _Fuck_. He had to think about this. But his brain wasn’t working right. His thoughts were murky and slow. He needed food and he needed sleep and he needed Dugan to stop looking at him and Steve out of the corner of his eye. Instead, he focused his energy on putting one foot in front of the other, one step at a time, and hoping his knees wouldn’t buckle again. Bucky could feel Steve’s eyes on him. It would all have to wait until they were far enough away so as to be safe to rest and regroup. 

***

Bucky didn’t remember stopping, but he woke up in the daylight, shadowed by a makeshift tent that was a coat strung up over some low-hanging branches. He shifted to sit up. Everything hurt, but his mind was clear. So was his stomach. He’d never been so hungry in his life.

“You feeling up to eating something?” Steve. He was standing off to the side, leaning against a tree and wearing an expression Bucky couldn’t read. Bucky didn’t like that. “We don’t have much. I only had a couple of rations with me and I saved them for you.”

Steve tossed a couple of packets of ration crackers to him and Bucky caught them, ripping them open and biting into the first cracker immediately. 

“How long have we been here?” he asked.

“A couple hours. We’re going to have to pack up again soon,” Steve said, running his hand through the front of his hair. He’d taken his helmet off. His jacket, Bucky realized, was the one above his head being used as a tent. The stars and stripes on his chest were smudged with dirt but unmistakable. “You collapsed about a mile before we stopped. I picked you up and took you here.” 

Bucky grunted.

Steve scowled. “You should have let me carry you before that.”

Bucky didn’t speak again until after he’d finished the crackers in the first packet. He still wasn’t ready to reconcile Steve being Captain America. The whole time. All his thoughts, his feelings. They’d been for Steve all along. He’d deal with that emotional gut punch later.

“Are you gonna tell me what happened?” Bucky asked instead.

Steve crossed his arms, widened his feet. His stubborn-as-a-mule stance. At least this Steve wasn’t totally foreign to Bucky.

“Don’t just tell me you joined the army. How did — ?” Bucky gestured his hands, hoping the _all of that_ meaning was clear. 

Steve sighed and took a seat on the ground next to him. 

“Alright. I lied to get into the army again.”

“That sounds more like it. Now tell me the rest.” Bucky opened the second packet of crackers and nudged himself closer to Steve, so they were shoulder to shoulder just as they’d done a thousand times in the past. Steve’s shoulder was slightly higher than Bucky’s now, familiar and unfamiliar all at once.

***

It hadn’t crossed Bucky’s mind that his capture and subsequent rescue could be his ticket home until Steve asked him to stay. Not that it was really a question. Of course, Bucky would stay. He hadn’t even wanted to leave Steve to his own devices back in Brooklyn and he sure as hell wasn’t gonna leave him to fight a war on his own.

They had a special team, seven of them in all, Dugan included. It was nice to have someone else he already knew well, but Bucky was always worried Dum Dum would mention Bucky’s little star-spangled obsession, not that he knew the full truth of it all. At least, Bucky was relatively certain he didn’t. Though, with all they’d seen, Dum Dum having mind reading powers wouldn’t be terribly shocking.

Still, it wasn’t something Bucky wanted Steve to know about. And for his part, Dum Dum seemed to sense that. Once they’d made it to London and settled themselves, Dum Dum spoke to him about it once and only once. Bucky was sitting alone at a bar, musing into a half empty pint glass, after Steve had left for a meeting with Howard Stark, of all people. Dum Dum settled on the stool beside him, taking his bowler hat off his head and resting it on his knee.

“I’m guessing you didn’t know.”

Bucky shook his head, not looking up. “No. No clue. He didn’t used to look like that.”

“You don’t seem happy about it,” Dum Dum observed.

“Me and Steve, we’ve known each other since we were kids. I know him better than anyone on this earth. Still do, I think.” Bucky downed the rest of his drink in one gulp and turned to face Dum Dum. “I’m happy he’s with me. I’m happy he’s okay. I’m not happy he’s joined the war and put himself in danger, but that’s his choice and he’s always gone head first into a fight if he thinks it’s the right thing to do. I’m… My feelings about Captain America are complicated. It’s different now.”

And that was the end of it. Dum Dum didn’t press for anything else. They talked about where they thought their little team would be sent for their first mission. Bucky told Dum Dum a little more about Steve and Dum Dum, in turn, told Bucky what he knew of the other guys.

***

France was where they went first. SSR intel had led them to a Hydra operation run out of an old factory near the eastern boarder. 

Now that Steve was officially part of the US army — and they’d even gone so far as giving him the rank of Captain to match his moniker — he got a new costume. Bucky missed the tights, but the tac pants were probably more practical. And less distracting. He got a new shield, too. This one could withstand anything and it was light as a feather. Steve rarely let it out of his sight, and when he did, he left it with Bucky.

Bucky decided he’d deal with the Captain America situation by not thinking about it at all. So, of course, he thought about it constantly. He’d always been a little sweet on Steve and Captain America had provided him jerk off material for months. Combine them both into the same person and Bucky felt like he was burning up. He couldn’t escape it, and he got so little time for himself.

His Steve in those little shorts up on that stage with the USO girls. His Steve going on a one-man rescue mission because Bucky’s unit had been captured. His Steve with shoulders even broader than Bucky had imagined from those movie reels. His Steve finally getting the spotlight he’d always deserved, people hanging on to his every word.

Bucky was past starstruck. Looking at Steve, thinking about Steve caused his chest to feel so full it was almost physically painful. And he had to have some relief.

On the rare occasions Bucky got a tent to himself or he could sneak away from the guys, he’d take his time. Work himself up real good. It was so much better when he had examples from real life to draw on rather than looking at comic pages and imagining. He thought about Steve walking towards him, the breadth of his chest mouthwatering and his pecs moving slightly with every step. 

He pulled his cock out of his pants and gave it a good stroke. What would it be like to have Steve’s hands on him? With his gloves on? It would be rough, Steve would hold him tight. He’d squeeze on the downstroke. Bucky wouldn’t have to tell him what he liked because Steve could read Bucky like the back of his hand and he’d just know. He’d stare down at Bucky, eyes shining from under his helmet. It was intimidating, being the sole focus of Steve’s attention. Bucky had been the center of it before, but not like this. 

Bucky tipped his head back, closed his eyes, and let out a soft little moan. Steve would use his free hand to grab the back of his head, dig his fingers in Bucky’s soft curls, and pull him closer. Steve’s lips were always so red. Bucky wanted to kiss him, lick him so bad. Bucky would open his mouth and let Steve devour him. Take him. Bucky would give Steve anything he wanted. 

He reached out his hand and fumbled in his backpack for the little tin of vaseline. Once he found it, he shucked his pants and underwear down past his knees and scooped a little of the jelly out of the tin. It was cool to the touch, but Bucky was hot all over. It made his hand glide smoother over his cock as he sped up.

Steve would move from Bucky’s lips and kiss his way to Bucky’s ear. He’d lean in so close that Bucky would feel his lips move when he whispered. He’d tell Bucky that he knew. He knew all about what Bucky thought of Captain America. He knew what Bucky thought about his uniform. He knew Bucky always snuck glances when he took off his shirt. He knew what Bucky did whenever he was alone.

And all while Steve was whispering in Bucky’s ear, he would slick his fingers up in the vaseline. He’d keep one hand on Bucky’s cock, pumping and squeezing, and the other would move lower to cup Bucky’s balls. He’d roll them in the palm of his hand and then walk his fingers farther back, rub them right up against Bucky’s hole. It would take Bucky’s breath away when Steve pushed his thumb in. And Steve would then take his hand off Bucky’s cock so he could grab Bucky by the thighs and pull him onto his lap. Steve would knead his ass with one hand and open him up with the other. And just like that, Bucky would come all over Steve’s stomach, drops of white trailing down the stripes of his uniform. 

Bucky’s eyes fluttered open and he wiped his hand on the grass beside him. He’d sit there for a little while. Give himself some time to come back, to put himself together before he joined back up with the real Steve and the rest of the Commandos.

***

Whenever they were called back to base camp, Steve would usually be given an officer’s tent if they had one to spare. And he usually asked for Bucky to join him.

Bucky didn’t take it to mean anything. Not anything special, anyway. For friends, they’d always been close. When they stayed over at each other’s places as kids, they slept on the same bed, curled into each other, well into their teens. They still sometimes shared a bed back in their apartment when it was real cold out or Steve was sick. Now, when they were away from camp, they pulled their sleeping bags next to each and fed off each other’s warmth.

While Steve was off in a meeting with Colonel Phillips, Bucky chose to have some alone time with the shield. He wasn’t sure why exactly, but god, did the shield do it for him. And the way Steve used it. Throwing it at just the right angle. Ducking with it in front of Bucky to cover him while Bucky made the shot. And when Steve attached the shield to that harness on his back? Bucky lost his goddamn mind. It only emphasized how huge Steve was. Bucky knew he was desperate when just the touch of the shield’s cool metal and the thought of the power in which Steve wielded it was enough to get Bucky hard and aching in his pants.

He had the shield on the mattress with him, cock out. He thought about Steve’s fingers gripping the shield, gripping _him_. Bucky squeezed himself a little harder. A raspy moan escaped from his throat. Just a little more. He pulled the shield closer to him and let his head fall to the side, eyes unfocused, taken over by lust. He didn’t recognize what was happening at first. Steve featured in his fantasies so often that he didn’t question it. He was still in his uniform, but he’d taken his helmet off and his hair was sweaty and ruffled. His cheeks and ears and what Bucky could see of his neck were red, red. Steve’s mouth was parted in a little ‘o’ and he was looking right at Bucky. And —

Oh, _shit_.

Bucky practically convulsed on the cot, trying to scramble up and tuck his cock back in his pants. The shield fell to the floor with a deep, hollow ringing sound. Steve didn’t move.

“Look — I —” Bucky didn’t know what to say. He kept moving his mouth, but no other words would come out. He took several deep breaths and closed his eyes and when Steve still didn’t say or do anything, Bucky tried again, in a weak voice. “Steve? I can go stay with the other guys if you want.”

He turned away to start gathering his things, giving the shield a wide berth. He was stuffing one of his ripped, dirty shirts back in his bag when he felt a hand on his shoulder. 

“Buck?”

He didn’t want to look up. He didn’t want to face Steve right now.

The grip on his shoulder tightened.

“Bucky. I want you to look at me.” Steve’s voice was stern. It was a command. His Captain America voice. 

When Bucky didn’t turn around, Steve knelt beside him and tugged on Bucky’s jaw until they were eye to eye. Bucky was scared to blink.

Steve spoke, “I want you to tell me if I’m reading this wrong.”

And then he leaned in.

Steve’s lips were soft. Bucky had imagined this probably a hundred times since Steve dragged him out of that Hydra base, but none of them compared to the real thing. Steve’s breath was hot Bucky’s face when Steve pulled away. He didn’t go far. They were still nose to nose.

“Is this where you’ve go when you withdraw in on yourself lately, Bucky? Is this what you’ve been thinking about?”

Bucky swallowed. “Maybe.”

“You could have had it, you know,” Steve said. “You could have had me. This whole time. Any time. Since we were kids.”

Bucky didn’t know what to say to that. He’d been sweet on Steve before all this, sure. But to have those feelings reciprocated? He hadn’t thought that would be in the cards for them. To think, all he had to do was reach out. Maybe he missed his first chance and about a hundred in between, but he wouldn’t now.

He reached out.

He put his hand on Steve’s chest and ran it up around the back of his neck. Bucky kissed him again. Steve’s arms came up to wrap around Bucky’s back. When they pulled away again, Steve wiped his mouth, hiding a grin.

“So the shield, huh? That does it for ya?”

Well, in for a penny. Steve had already walked in on one of the more embarrassing moments of Bucky’s life and it had turned out well. Might as well reveal all his secrets.

“The whole uniform, actually. The Star Spangled Man with a Plan.” Bucky grimaced. “Even before I knew it was you.”

“Really?” Steve asked. “What, those awful propaganda movies?”

“Strangely, yes.”

At that, Steve leaned forward and kissed Bucky once, gently. Then he stood up. He picked up the shield and hooked to the harness on his back.

“I’ve got an idea,” he said. “If you’re still…. If you’re still interested.”

Bucky’s cheeks caught fire. He clenched his eyes shut. “Well, now I am.”

When Bucky opened his eyes again, Steve was palming himself through his tac pants. Bucky was helpless but to watch, open-mouthed. He could feel a little saliva gathering in the corner of his mouth. Steve was big, he knew that from little peeks and glances. Even before the serum shot him up a foot in height and doubled his weight. He was starting to realize that he’d maybe been watching Steve for a little longer and a little more closely than he previously thought. 

Steve saw him watching and took a step closer. Slowly, he unzipped his pants. Bucky tore his gaze away and looked up to meet Steve’s eyes.

“Can I?” Bucky asked.

Steve nodded.

Hesitantly, Buck reached into Steve’s pants and took his cock out. Steve was half-hard already and Bucky could feel it growing in his hand. Bucky stroked it a couple of times, experimentally, getting a feel for the weight of it, what made Steve shiver and clench his fist. He squeezed the base and leaned in to put his lips to the tip. Steve made a sharp little gasp.

No holding back. Bucky opened his mouth and took Steve’s cock in almost as far as he could go with enough room for his hand to stay wrapped around the base. He bobbed his head up and down a few times, pulled off and licked under it. When he took it all the way back in, he looked up at Steve from under his lashes. The shield behind his back accentuated his massive shoulder-span. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides and he was watching Bucky like he’d never seen something so incredible. If Bucky wasn’t fully hard before, he was now.

He switched his attention back to Steve’s cock. It was messy, saliva dripping down his chin. He felt Steve’s hand move to tangle in his hair and he groaned around Steve’s cock. Steve pressed Bucky gently forward on his cock, questioning. Bucky hummed his assent, and Steve’s grip in Bucky’s hair grew tighter and he started fucking Bucky’s mouth in earnest. Bucky knelt there, mouth open, held in place by his hair. He moved his hands to wrap around Steve’s thighs.

Bucky gulped in air when Steve let him back up to breathe. Bucky tried to move back in, but Steve held him back. 

“I — I don’t want to. Not yet,” Steve said between heavy breaths. “I’m close.”

Bucky’s brain felt like mush at the moment, but there was one thing he was thinking of. One thing that had been on his mind since he first saw Cap in that cowl and those tights.

“Steve,” he said and Steve instantly zeroed in on him. “I’ve got a thing of vaseline in my pack. I can lean against your desk if you want. I want it.”

Steve looked at Bucky like he was all he ever wanted. That stirred something in Bucky. His chest ached. He wanted Steve to never stop looking at him like that and he also wanted Steve to know that Bucky looked at him just the same.

He rummaged through his back and brought out the tin of vaseline, handing it off to Steve. While Steve worked the lid open, Bucky shuffled off his shirt and pants and took the couple steps over to Steve’s desk. He waited until Steve was watching to slowly slide off his underwear. Steve bit his lip and began to take off his own uniform top, but Bucky put a hand up to stop him.

“Keep it. Keep it on.” He was blushing now. “I want you to keep the uniform.”

“Whatever you want, Buck.”

Steve slid in behind him and put his hands on Bucky’s ass. Steve’s hands were warm. Steve almost always ran a little hot now. But when he rubbed the vaseline down Bucky’s ass crack, it was anything but warm. Bucky hissed, and Steve leaned down to kiss Bucky’s neck, right below his hairline. Steve fingered him open, gently, slowly. He took his time and checked in with Bucky every couple minutes. It was real nice, but it got to the point that Bucky told him to just shove it in already. 

And maybe he regretted that a tiny bit. 

Because Steve was big. And girthy. And he felt even more enormous jammed up against Bucky’s hole. He pushed in slowly, but Bucky felt every inch, right until he could feel the rough material of Steve’s uniform pants against his asscheeks and thighs. Bucky felt so full, stuffed to the brim with Steve’s thick cock. Steve was still and breathing quickly through his nose on top of Bucky, straining himself not to move. 

“Just give me another second, Stevie. Lemme get used to you.” Bucky reached behind him and grabbed one of Steve’s hands, brought it around and under his naked chest and threaded their fingers together. “Okay. Alright.”

Steve let out his breath in a whoosh and immediately pulled out and slammed back in, pushing Bucky harder against the desk. Over and over he did this, grinding himself against Bucky’s ass every few thrusts. And Bucky could do nothing but hold on to Steve with one hand and grip the edge of the desk with the other. 

Bucky felt so good and so warm and so full. Steve settled so he was lying fully against Bucky’s back, his face buried in the crook between Bucky’s neck and shoulder. Steve brought his other arm around Bucky’s waist and began rolling his hips, giving shallow, slow little thrusts. Before long, Steve started picking up the pace again, knocking Bucky’s head against the desk with each sharp snap of his hips. It wouldn’t be long now. 

And as if reading his mind, Steve reached his free hand under them to stroke Bucky’s cock in time with each thrust of his own. That extra attention was just enough to bring Bucky to completion, spilling all over Steve’s hand and Bucky’s lower stomach. Bucky could feel his hole spasming tight around Steve’s cock, and it wasn’t long before Steve came, too, groaning into Bucky’s neck.

They stayed like that for a little while, tangled up in each other. Bucky brought their linked hands up to his mouth and gently kissed each of Steve’s knuckles. Steve massaged Bucky’s thigh with his free hand and carefully pulled out. Bucky felt so light, so empty, that he almost told Steve to put it back in, to keep it there until he could get hard again.

But they needed to clean up and put themselves back together. Captain America couldn’t be walking around with come on his suit and kissed-red lips.

Bucky turned over and lie flat on his back on the desk. His ass was gonna be sore tomorrow, but he felt good now. Steve leaned down and gave him one last, lingering kiss. It was chaste compared to what they’d just been up to. 

“I mean it, Buck,” Steve said. “I’m yours. Any time.”

“And I’ll be with you,” Bucky replied, his smile bright and fond. “Right up till the end.”


End file.
